I’m one of those people who remembers dreams. In explicit detail. I awoke this morning and realised I’d had several back to back dreams and they all appeared to have a running theme:
I’d found myself having some difficulties, generally of the missing passport/lost ticket/non-functioning bank card persuasion and I felt rather panicky and weepy. There always seemed to be a ‘going off on holiday’ scenario but we’re not going anywhere – so that part must have just been wishful thinking.
Anyway, every dream ended with my husband saving the day at the last minute.
I got up and went downstairs to inform him that he’s my hero.
Can you imagine my surprise?
He was standing at the kitchen sink. Washing pans. With nowt on ‘cept his superman pants.